I imagined Dia de los Muertos, day of the dead was in full swing in our North West Tasmanian garden today. Borrowed from another culture; a new face in a fresh place. I say that with Frida Kahlo colour and thematics in mind. The decorations for the dearly departed were lavish; roses, nasturtium and fuschia, adorned the site of a black bird husk.
A spirited child had collected the fallen body a day earlier. He crafted a nest of twig and bloom. The winged creature’s stiff frame was tended to; and ‘a concert’ was called to the small familiar crowd. After a quick giggly tune, the crowd moved right up close for a look at the corpse. Something wiggled near the eye socket.
A dead bird, It lived in the same space we do, chattered while we spoke, sang at times when we played. Nested, as we bunkered down in rough weather and lived with a family here too.
A couple of years ago I received a gardening guide as a gift; “The Virgin Gardener” teased the busty brunette, author Laetita Maklouf on the cover. Immediately it became apparent that this chick is the ‘Nigella’ of the gardening world, hailing from those parts with good looks and a green thumb. Take for example her sweet murmurings about cherry tomatoes in her “eat” section. Think summer for a moment…
titillating cherry tomatoesgarden guru/ minx
“Eat them, one by one, as they ripen, bearing in mind that you do not have to share”.
“One perfect mouthful, one slow squeeze… one sweet explosion inside the mouth”.
Bring on the season for cherry tomatoes, baby! On the coast right now, its beyond the dead part of winter; the soil is sodden, plants are pared back to bark and pot plants that have survived the frosts grow upon moss floors. If you look closely around your patch you might just be beginning to notice some unfurling green buds and the first sprinkles of blossom on fruit trees. The swallows have built a new nest in our porch, away from the wild showers and windy weather we’ve been having this August. There is the promise of a season finally turning and today the sun has turned on it’s warm shine.
I’m going to get dirty in here.
So, that’s why I picked up this book again, flicking through for some Spring garden inspiration. Some preparation for summer crops. With the newly acquired ownership of an established garden up on the hill, I’m more excited than ever to see how this new season creeps into view. What has been hibernating through the colder months at our new place, stripped to it’s bones will soon be revealed. My new patch is at it’s core English cottage garden with boxed hedges and a rose bed (and the rest). It is virgin territory for these garden mitts!
This pocket of cuteness in Tasmania’s North West is a home for sale; my home For Sale! From experience it is a safe nest to cradle young children. That is my best platform for a sales pitch. A place where we ‘wild parents’ have let little ones inhale, roll and fight against bull ants. There are all the normal parts of a house and a roaring wood fire that makes the winter a pleasure, as long as the pile of timber in the great shed holds up to Spring. On adjoining land, happy dairy herds mow through the crispest green pastures on earth and a large white sea eagle makes visits on its way up the Flowerdale River. Other little birds always swoop at the giant eagle in the skeleton of a gum tree, framed by a striking clear sky. It is sheltered, like a private haven here in the Flowerdale Valley with hills towering up on either side. We have lived and loved this home. Our wonky baby buggy got bogged and bumped its way along the lane with tired limbs and gumboot tread, one foot after another. Sometimes washing never dried and at the other extreme of the year, the lawn was like a park land with the shade of a huge weeping birch a place to set up chairs and fine fare for parties. There are lots of memories and some great images with family and friends. Mostly, though nostalgia is brimming; I know we have relished our young family life here and the move my family will make (in September 2013) is about another time of our lives, with this home still a part of who we are. Now I look to cultivate a new life with words and fresh views.
Lucy Taylor 